


someone's looking out

by serendipitiness



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (as seen in show), Canon Compliant, Memory Loss, POV Clary Fray, Post-Finale, Supportive Magnus Bane, Week 2: Neon, and Clary deserves the support, because Magnus Bane is a good man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 06:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19997677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitiness/pseuds/serendipitiness
Summary: He's a little intimidating and a little strange (seriously, who calls peoplebiscuit?), but Clary decides she likes the man she meets at her art exhibit.





	someone's looking out

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [sh_ficletinstruments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/sh_ficletinstruments) collection. 



“Hm,” the stranger says. He strokes the shadow of his goatee with navy-tipped fingers, tilting his head and staring at the canvas. “This one’s different.”

Clary laughs. She doesn’t know if he means different compared to the other art at this exhibition, or different from her other work. Must be the former, she thinks. How could he possibly know what the rest of her paintings look like?

“Yes,” she says. “I like to think this one is inspired by New York at night. Dark and mysterious, like every alley is hiding a secret, yet cut through with bright neon lights at the same time.”

The man smiles at the painting, then at her. "I see it," he says simply.

They stand, surrounded by the chatter in the hall, and Clary watches him, observing the lift of his hair, the extravagance of his clothes, the rings on his hands. He looks intimidating, imposing, otherworldly.

He would be worth painting. All jewel tones and gold, laid over rich grays and browns --

“I’d like to buy it,” she hears suddenly, and she blinks back to reality.

Awkwardly she blurts out, "You would?"

The man laughs in response. It makes him look softer, like a familiar friend laughing at a joke. "Of course, biscuit," he answers matter-of-factly. "Why wouldn't I? You're a gifted artist."

 _Weird nickname_ , she muses. Anyway, it’s not like she hasn’t been able to sell her artwork -- interestingly, she’s been selling to a lot of unnamed buyers -- but still, every sale thrills her. Everything contributes to surviving in this city, and it’s only harder nowadays, with Simon gone, and her mom gone, and --

The thought sends something aching in the back of her throat.

“T-thank you,” she manages to say. “This means a lot. I -- it's been tough lately. This helps."

Something sorrowful flashes across the man's face. "Of course, my dear," he says, and he jerks a little, arms making an aborted motion like he'd wanted to reach for something. At the same time, his eyes glance over Clary's shoulders, widening before he looks back to her.

"Ah -- I have to go, Clary," he says, sounding oddly sorry, "but I'm going to do the paperwork to buy your painting first. Make sure they put up the 'sold' sticker, dear, I refuse to let anyone take this but me."

Clary giggles, then holds out her hand. "Thank you."

He shakes it firmly. "Anytime."

With that, the man leaves, weaving through the crowd. Clary tries following him with her eyes, struggling to see over everybody, but she only manages to catch him when he’s already by the main counter, paying. He's standing with someone else now, a taller guy whose hand he’s holding.

The rest of the night flies by, though it's exhausting. It isn't until the exhibition is closed, and Clary is standing in front of her painting, staring at the " _Sold to Anonymous_ " placard in the corner, that regret wells up.

She hadn't even remembered to ask that man's name.


End file.
